


Good Hunting

by Paperlov3 (orphan_account)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Huli Jing, Infedelity, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Mentions of Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon, Minor Character Death, Obsession, Smut, Violence, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27802435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Paperlov3
Summary: The only thing more dangerous than being hunted by a Huli Jing was to approach one directly, without protection.Inspired by Good Hunting by Ken Liu
Relationships: Lee Chan | Dino/Yoon Jeonghan
Kudos: 13
Collections: SVTOXIC FEST 2020





	Good Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the warnings. Thank you to Admin M for all your help <3

Jeonghan throws his head back with perfectly executed ease, arching his back in the way he knows makes him look good. A rush of lust washes over him as the man below him releases suddenly, the warm feeling of cum filling him up and making him smirk. He adored watching the men he lured into his bed lose themselves in pleasure because of him, most often spluttering and cumming without warning because of the way Jeonghan swiveled his hips or bit down on his lip. It was the most exhilarating feeling in the world. Well, besides what came next.

With a vicious snarl, Jeonghan suddenly leans forward and sinks his teeth into the column of the man’s throat, closing around the flesh until he feels the muscle give way. With a resounding “snap” his jaw closes and a stream of blood floods into his mouth, gushing more when the man, still inside him, tries to speak. There’s a gurgling noise, a splutter of confusion and fear that Jeonghan treasures seeing on all the men’s faces right before they bleed out, their bodies going limp suddenly as their soul disintegrates. 

Only when the man beneath him stops breathing, his head lulling back and pulling on Jeonghan’s teeth, does he let go. The corpse falls back onto the bed with a hollow “ _ thunk” _ , blood starting to pool and spill out of the throat cavity. Truth be told, Jeonghan wasn’t a fan of the bitter taste of this man’s blood and opts to let him drain himself on the sheets instead of his usual routine of sucking the body dry. Being an abusive husband and father, Jeonghan doesn’t feel bad for leaving the man lying in his own waste, destined to rot like the scum he was before his wife and children return from their holiday. It might be traumatic in the beginning, sure, but Jeonghan knows that the family will be much better off without that asshole in their lives. That’s just how his life went, really, maybe it came with blood and destruction, but he knows deep down that the offerings left outside his temple were for gratitude, not penance.

He gracefully stands, allowing the man’s hand that was gripped onto his hip to slide off without another glance. With a deep sigh, he begins to stretch his limbs out, content with the satisfying pop his back makes now that he’s not bent in an awkward position or straining to sit up straight. Jeonghan had a routine he preferred to stick to after completing a ritual, something to help his muscles relax so he wouldn’t be on edge after a successful hunt. After stretching, he tends to the blood sticking to his skin, licking off the small droplets and leaving the rest for a proper bath later.

When he’s satisfied, he takes one last look at the man, letting a scowl mar his lips at the disgusting remnants of the human. Now he was laying in his own waste, blood, and other bodily fluids spilling over the sheets of the bed and beginning to drip onto the floor. When the woman and her sons returned, it would be to this disgusting creature, every bit foul on the outside as he once had been on the inside. 

“At least the sex was nice,” Jeonghan thinks to himself, finally turning away and willing his body to shift so he could return to his temple. There was no use in hanging around here anymore. Soon the air would smell of death and decay, and he preferred not to take his chances, lest he gets caught by the villagers. While the wives may have silently appreciated his actions, the men were prepared to kill him on sight, believing Jeonghan to be a malicious spirit intent on seducing them, forcing them to turn on their families and give in to his lustful call. Even though, really, Jeonghan could only work on manifestations that already existed in the men.

With the moon to guide his way home, Jeonghan flies across the forest, the pathway familiar under his paws. He barely has to look where he’s going, the fox weaving throughout the trees on autopilot. He considers stopping to hunt, but it is late enough into the night that all the forest animals are asleep, even though his stomach rolls from not consuming the last man. Jeonghan was confident in his choice, though. The man deserved to decay as a whole, and he had been poisoned by the malice that made his body bitter and unappetizing. 

Without a sound he bursts from the treeline, landing on his feet in front of the stone steps up to his temple. It feels good to be back on his territory, where he feels the most powerful and in control. Out there, back in the village, there’s always the threat of being caught, not being able to shift and escape from anyone who wants to abuse his powers. 

As he ascends the steps towards the entrance, Jeonghan picks up on a subtle noise behind him. It’s the softest brush of fabric against the trees, something that would have easily gone unnoticed had Jeonghan been human. His assailant won’t be so lucky, however, as he suddenly spins around, back arching and deadly claws erupting from his paws, He bares his teeth at the forest, eyes narrowing as he scans the outer edge of the temple for any sign of an unwelcome guest.

“Show yourself!” He snarls. There are a few moments of silence as the forest holds its breath, waiting. Jeonghan hears them first- a few tentative footsteps to his left, unsteady, and he can smell the fear the person hiding in the trees emits. When he turns toward the hidden figure, he hears a slight gasp, before suddenly a man emerges from the shroud of fauna, his eyes locked on Jeonghan, a knife clutched in his hand and poised in the air. 

He’s barely intimidating, though, and Jeonghan could nearly laugh at how weak this man really is. He’s scared out of his mind, the hand holding the knife shaking as he shuffles forward in increments of millimeters, his feet dragging across the dirt as he comes closer to where Jeonghan is standing.

“Maybe this will settle my appetite,” Jeonghan thinks, sweeping his gaze over the man quickly. He was handsome, despite that terrible excuse of a snarl on his face, a juxtaposition to the slim curve of his waist and the baby fat still filling out his cheeks. He was dressed in a casual robe, definitely not one the peasants of the village could afford to wear. There’s a ring on his finger too, Jeonghan notices, though he doesn’t carry himself like the many lords he has brought to bed and sunk his teeth into.

“My name is Lee Chan,” the boy suddenly speaks, surprisingly steady despite his posture, “I have come to avenge my husband, who was murdered by you, demon.”

Oh, this was adorable. Jeonghan had dealt with a fair share of misunderstanding in his time, especially when it was a common misconception that he was the one to lure men in. Never before had he seen a widow come after him though, nor someone who did not consider themselves to be a “hunter.” Lee Chan had spirit, Jeonghan had to give him that.

“Leave, Lee Chan,” he finally speaks, watching as Chan is startled by his fox form talking back, “I have no malice for you, only pity.”

“You killed my husband! I- It is my duty to defend his family’s honor.”

With a smirk, Jeonghan allows himself to transform back into his human form and quickly descend before Chan has a chance to think. With his red robe billowing behind him, Jeonghan knows he must look quite intimidating based on the way Chan’s eyes suddenly widen and he takes a step back toward the forest.

“Tell me, Lee Chan,” he comes to a stop on the final step, still poised above the trembling man, “Was your husband a good man?” He gives Chan a moment to think, but when he stays silent, Jeonghan presses on, “Was it your duty to hold up his honor while he was still alive? Did he force you to bed against your wishes? Did he come home late at night, drunk, angry, and frustrated? Did his mother teach you how to apply balm to your bruises, how to hide cuts and red handprints under your robes?”   
  


“N-no, Soonyoung never-” Chan shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears.

Ah, so this was Kwon Soonyoung’s widow. He should have guessed, the only other Lee he could remember was Lee Jihoon, and his widow showered Jeonghan’s temple with gifts within days of his husband’s “disappearance.” But he had easily forgotten about the Kwon family, a group who were dripping in wealth and so consumed by greed it turned their hearts black. The Kwon father had died before Jeonghan migrated to this region, but his son filled his father’s shoes quickly, draining resources from the village the moment he stepped into power. Lee Chan was the victim of an arranged marriage, given away as payment for a debt his father owed to the Kwon’s. Their marriage had been doomed from the start. And a few moons ago, Jeonghan had set Chan free.

“Either way,” Jeonghan says, stepping down off of the step to be on the same level as Chan, “He no longer has power over you. You’re free to live as you wish.”

Chan blinks a few times, seemingly fighting an internal battle with himself before he suddenly stiffens, mouth opening in a ferocious yell as he lifts the knife back up and charges forward toward Jeonghan. Unfortunately for him, Chan was not a hunter, nor did he seem to have any experience in attacking someone. Jeonghan easily dodges his attack, reaching out to grab the arm holding the knife and spinning Chan around, pinning his arm behind his back. Chan lets out a strangled cry, his eyes going wide when he realizes he’s been caught.

“Well then,” Jeonghan trills, reaching out with one long, blood-stained finger and tilting Chan’s chin up, licking his lips as the position forces his neck to strain, “Aren't you a feisty one? Normally I'd just go ahead and kill you right here but...”

His eyes flash with fear for a moment as Chan tries to swallow, “What are you going to do to me?”

With a click of his tongue, Jeonghan pulls back, allowing Chan to slip from his grip and grab at his neck, gasping for air, “That depends, kit, are you going to behave?” He suddenly glides to stand behind the man, leaning down to whisper into his ear, “Or am I going to have to teach you some manners?”


End file.
